Reincarnated with the Country System-Chapter 223: Blood and Business

The negotiations for Jimland's surrender had concluded.

And now, the real game begins.

The Aurelians hadn't traveled all this way just to watch.

Alberto leaned back in his chair. His fingers tapped lightly against the table, his golden eyes flicking toward Erik.

"Speak," he ordered.

Erik straightened his coat, inhaled, and finally said, "Your Majesty, with the Jimland matter settled, we would like to discuss Aurelia's interests."

A smirk ghosted over Alberto's lips. "Ah. So this wasn't just a diplomatic courtesy."

"Everything is an investment," Erik replied smoothly. "We're here to ensure Aurelia remains profitable—even in this new order."

Alberto nodded. "Then let's talk business."

Soraya took over.

"The Bernard Empire has… changed the balance of power," she began carefully, choosing her words. "We've seen the firepower your forces command. The weapons. The machines."

She paused. "We don't fully understand your technology. But we understand what it means."

"Aurelia controls the largest merchant fleet on the continent," she went on. "We have shipyards capable of rapid production. More importantly, we have established trade routes—ones your empire does not yet control."

She leaned forward. "And we suspect your empire doesn't have a fully developed maritime trade infrastructure."

Alberto raised an eyebrow, amused by her caution.

Soraya pressed on. "That's where we come in. We propose a logistics partnership. Aurelia will ensure a stable supply chain for Bernard-controlled regions—moving goods faster, securing naval routes, and preventing economic disruption in the wake of your… conquest."

Alberto exhaled through his nose, a faint smirk playing at his lips. "So, you want to help me run my empire."

Erik quickly clarified, "We want to cooperate. Not interfere."

Alberto studied them for a moment. "And in return?"

Soraya folded her hands. "We want preferential trade rights in Bernard-controlled regions. Britannia, Amazonia, Latvia, Harnas and Jimland"

Alberto chuckled. "You're asking me to hand over my markets to a republic that doesn't even know how we operate."

Soraya didn't flinch. "We're not fools, Your Majesty. It's about logistics, industry, and economy."

She tapped the table. "We want a seat at that table before someone else takes it, we'll settle for preferential contracts. A thirty-year agreement ensuring Aurelia gets first priority in all non-military trade, in exchange for full logistical support."

"You'll still need to prove your worth."

Soraya's smile was sharp. "We already have."

She reached into her jacket and pulled out a small black ledger, sliding it across the table.

Alberto flipped it open.

Inside were records of black-market trade routes running through—Britannia, Amazonia, Latvia, Harnas and Jimland—smuggling networks, backroom deals, and unauthorized economic activity. It also mentioned trade information and routes between Ostra and other continents. Which was really important for Bernard Empire.

Aurelia had done their homework.

The mention of Ostra piqued Alberto interest. Bernard had limited knowledge of other continents, and intelligence gathering outside its borders was still in its infancy. If Aurelia had trading contacts beyond the known world, that meant they had information—maps, merchant connections, geopolitical insights.

That was leverage no other nation had offered him.

Alberto could refuse, of course. He could attempt to seize Aurelia's shipping network by force. But that would require a costly naval campaign against an entity that wasn't an enemy—yet. It would disrupt trade for years, destabilizing his newly conquered territories before they could generate proper revenue.

Instead, a thirty-year preferential trade agreement allowed him to integrate Aurelia into Bernard's economic web without a direct takeover. They'd grow dependent on his empire's markets, and in time, he'd be able to dictate the terms of their survival.

They thought they were securing a seat at the table.

What they didn't realize was that, in the long run, he planned to own the table itself.

Alberto exhaled slowly, his smirk widening.

"Very well," he said, tapping the ledger. "You'll have your preferential contracts. Thirty years. First priority on non-military trade."

Soraya and Erik exchanged a glance, sensing the weight of their victory.

"But understand this," Alberto continued, his tone carrying a subtle warning. " If I ever find you using these routes for anything… unsanctioned—I won't renegotiate. I'll replace you."

Soraya inclined her head, unshaken. "Your Majesty, We wouldn't have come here if we didn't already know the rules of the game."

As the negotiations continued, Carl approached Alberto from behind, leaning down to whisper into his ear.

"Your Majesty—urgent report. The Imperial Black Site has been compromised."

Alberto's fingers briefly paused their tapping.

"How bad?" he murmured, keeping his expression neutral.

Carl hesitated. That alone told Alberto everything.

"The worst."

A flicker of something passed through Alberto's eyes—concern, calculation. He had personally ensured Caspian was imprisoned in that facility. It was designed to hold much bigger threats. If the Black Site had fallen…

That meant Caspian was loose.

Alberto inhaled slowly, his gaze never leaving Soraya and Erik.

Inside, he was already processing contingencies, preparing for the inevitable chaos. But outwardly, he remained calm.

"Understood," he said, barely above a whisper.

Carl stepped back.

Alberto turned his attention back to the Aurelians, offering them the same confident smirk as before.

"Now," he said smoothly, as if nothing had changed, "where were we?"

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The alarm shrieked.

Red lights. Flashing strobes. Automatic doors slamming shut.

The security system was fighting for its life.

Caspian stepped over the corpses. Warm blood pooled around his bare feet, soaking into the rags they had given him. His muscles ached, but it was a distant thing—muted beneath the surge of raw, unfettered power coursing through his body.

He exhaled.

The air rippled.

Footsteps. Dozens.

From the other end of the corridor, the next wave came.

These were Super soldiers. A specialized Group. The group made up of these super soldiers has been given the official name SS. Some people also called it The SS Division. Their uniforms and weapons were also special and unique, made just for their use.

One of them—massive, nearly seven feet tall, carrying a hyper-charged shock maul—pointed at Caspian.

"Eyes on target. Confirmed hostile. Engage."

They moved in perfect sync, fanning out, no hesitation.

No wasted movement. No sloppy mistakes.

These were professionals.

Caspian grinned.

"Come then."

They rushed him.